Worth More Broken
by IchigoXLawliet10
Summary: Emiko is a young musician who goes to her first day at Ouran High School with a broken heart, the wrong attitude, and a miserable outlook. The problems at home with her parents dont help either. She's broken inside. Who, or what, can help her? KyxOC RNR
1. Prologue: The Letter

**A/N:**** HELLO FRIENDS! I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Man, I haven't been on here in forever! Here's a new story, and it's an Ouran HSHC one this time! :D YAY! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Ouran High School Host Club, although I really wish I did. I only own my OC. :) **

It's not easy not being the smartest kid in school; or not the most wealthy, or not the most pretty. People think these things don't usually matter, but at Ouran High School—I prefer to call it the school for the rich and snobby—those things matter. They matter _a lot. _It's basically this: If you're not rich, then you must be a peasant, and if you're not smart, then you obviously don't belong here. Well, whoop-dee-frickin-doo.

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. I guess I should start this off a different way: Hi. I'm Emiko, and this has been the worst school year of my life, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that. I don't even know why I accepted when that stupid letter came in the mail. Yes, I'm smart; yes, I take all honors classes; yes, I'm an honor student. Did that mean I wanted to go to Ouran High School? Not necessarily. I thought it would be nice; I hated the current school I was in, anyway.

So I accepted; it was the biggest mistake in my life.

First off, I saw the uniforms. I refused to wear anything that made me look like a pastry, so I simply ordered the boys' one with my parents signature. People often mistook me for a boy, anyway. Secondly, I'm shy and people see right through me, anyway. I hardly ever speak up in class, yet I get straight A's, which people think is strange.

Most importantly, I don't have very many friends. I've always been a bit of a lone wolf, but I wanted at least one shoulder to cry on; that one person to laugh and tease and gossip with. Everyone I knew had that blessing except me. I did have a friend once, but she totally blew me off one day because I was "too quiet and too boring". Yeah, stupid, I know.

The summer before I went to Ouran High School was a big one, both for me and my family. My older sister, Natsuko, was taking a drive with a friend on a hot July day when some drunk driver collided into them, and the car skidded off the street and rolled over multiple times down a hill. No one survived that crash. My sister was even wearing a seatbelt, yet she died on impact.

I cried for weeks. For the rest of the summer, I didn't do what everyone else did. Instead of going to the mall or movies, I stayed home and watched bad cartoons. Everyone went to the lake; I stayed in my room all day doing nothing in particular. I went into Ouran on the first day of school with a broken heart, a bad attitude, and a miserable outlook.

It was gonna suck.


	2. Chapter 1: Encounters of a Weird Kind

**A/N:**** Thanks for the reviews and support! Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Ouran HSHC. Just Emiko :) **

_  
><em>

_Wake up to a sunny day, not a cloud up in the sky. And then it starts to rain._

_-"Broken" by Lindsay Haun_

_  
><em>

"WATCH OUT!"

I snap out of my daydream haze just in time to see some blonde guy slam into me, bowling both of us over. My glasses were knocked off my face, and the binder I was hugging to my chest slid halfway across the room on the dirty floor.

"Owwww...oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Here, let me help you!" I felt a strong hand pull me up off the filthy floor and heard the same voice apologizing over and over again. I bend down, him still jabbering, and pick up my glasses. I slide them onto my nose and pick up my binder.

"I'm sooo sorry! I just didn't see you! It was an accident, believe me! I-"

I hold up my hand, silently cutting him off. I couldn't stand to hear anymore of his repeated jib-jabber. I smiled, silently saying that all was forgiven and that it was okay. The blonde smiled at me, his teeth shining. Before he can say anything more, I give him a little nod and walk away to my next class.

I set my binder down, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and sit down. I observe. Not much to see; looks like a plain old ordinary classroom. After a few minutes the teacher begins to take roll. I don't really pay attention until I hear a name that sounds interesting.

"Kyoya Ootori?" the teacher calls. A boy about my age a few rows over looks up, smiles, and says: "here." He definitely looked like the snobby type. From his whole appearance you could tell his family was wealthy. Heck, his haircut even looked like it cost a million. He wore thin-rimmed glasses that he had to keep pushing up his nose. I take off my own glasses and wipe them on my shirtsleeve. I feel pathetic.

"Emiko Shizune?"

I raise my hand silently, not saying anything. The teacher nods at me and marks me as "here" on her roll chart. I put my hand down and pick at my sleeve sub-consciously. I hear sniggers and murmurs, one in particular saying:

"Emiko? Huh...I didn't know that was a _boy's_ name..." followed by a snicker. _It isn't, _I think to myself. I simply cradle my elbows in my hands and bite my lip. First day so far is crap.

Typical first-day-of-school; teacher hands out syllabus, reads it to us even though we've been reading since kindergarten, parents have to sign it, blah blah blah. I look up at one point and see the boy with glasses looking at me in a curious way. Could this day get anymore weird? I tune out my ears and look over the list of books we're reading.

Okay, I admit; the first day of school wasn't that bad. It was kind of bittersweet; the teachers were actually nice, but no one talked to me. Invisible Girl, that's me. Sounds like some kind of superhero name. I roll my eyes to myself as I walk home. I don't live that far away, just a block or two, and both my parents work so I kind of have to. I don't mind it, really: I love nature.

I unlock the front door with the key from my pocket and walk inside. I slip my shoes off, put my bag down, and go upstairs to my room. I shut the door and let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. I run a hand through my hair as I dress into more comfortable clothes. I feel much better after doing so. I leave my room and descend the stairs.

I stop in mid-step along the way. There's a picture of Natsuko hanging on the wall; her senior photo. Her long honey-blonde hair was hanging down her back, and her smile was radiant. She was holding her violin up to her chin and delicately holding the bow close to it. She looked beautiful. I break my gaze from it before I start to cry.

I head down to the piano in the living room. I sit down on the seat and pluck a key. This piano is the only thing that's mine in the entire house, except my room. No one else touches it except me, and no one dares move it unless I tell them to do so. When Natusko was still alive we would play duets together, her on the violin and me on the piano.

I start to play a familiar piece, one of Natsuko's favorites. Without the violin in the background the song sounds empty and hollow. I stop right in the middle of it, as I can play no longer. I close the lid of the piano and stand up. I walk toward the front door to pick up my bag and notice a note I didn't see earlier in my mom's handwriting.

_Working late tonight. Order Pizza, 555-2875. _

I sigh, ripping the note off the door and taking the money along with it in my pocket. My mom used to be really good at cooking, but that was when Natsuko was alive. I throw the note away and sit down on the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. I'm alone and the house feels too big. I close my eyes as the tears begin to fall.

Little did I know I was being watched.


	3. Chapter 2: Music Room 3

**A/N:**** Thanks for the supportive reviews! I really appreciate it! :) Here's chapter 2!**

**Disclaimer:**** As I have previously stated, I do not own Ouran HSHC. Sad day. :(**

That day was just like any other day: get up, try and stay awake, telling the clock to hurry up, and then back to the place I once called "home." I was walking down the hallways, my ridiculously heavy books in my arms, trying to find an empty room to do my homework in.

I suppose I really should explain about my parents and me: our relationship is strained, to say the least. It's like they don't even know I'm there, so why bother going home? What's there to go home to? I once had a sister who looked out for me and made me smile and practically force me to be optimistic, but that's gone now.

I miss my sister. I miss her _a lot. _When people find out that I had a relative who just died, they give me this look and say in this certain tone of voice: "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. That must be really hard for you." Well, no duh, Sherlock. And then everyone would treat me weird; they'd look at me like I was about to explode any minute. It drives me insane: makes me want to rip my hair out.

All those talks on TV about how it's better to vent then to keep your emotions bottled up inside is wrong. No one gives a crap about what you have to say.

To continue, I was walking down the hallways, trying to find an empty room. I had just given up hope and was about to just walk home when a sign by a door caught my eye:

_Music Room #3, _it read. I smiled: victory! I put my monstrous pile of books down on the floor and turned the doorknob. I opened the door; the lights were out, and no one was inside. I flipped on the light switch, hauled my books off the floor, and went inside, shutting the door behind me. It was a really nice room: fancy couches everywhere and stuff, but what really caught my eye was a grand piano in the left corner.

I wanted to; but I wouldn't. I came in here to do homework, not hold a recital. I plopped down on one of the couches and opened my math book. I was doing well until I felt my eyes look at the piano again. No, stop it! I'm not going to play it! Heck, I'm probably not even allowed to touch it!

After a few more minutes of arguing with myself, I stand up and make my way over there. I sit down on the bench and pluck a single key. Perfectly in tune; and all I had at home was a simple little piano that went out of tune every 3-4 weeks. What to play…?

I didn't even give it a second thought; I just started to play. I didn't know what it was; it was something that came from deep inside me and just came out of my fingers. The sound was rich and full, and I couldn't help but smile a little. Homework could wait.

I played and played that piano until the burst of inspiration was suddenly gone; I had nothing more to play. My fingers went limp and my foot came off the pedal. I sighed; I wish I could've at least written some of it down…

I cringed when I heard a sudden burst of applause from behind me. I turn my head slowly, like a robot and saw seven men standing behind me: one was the Blondie that smacked into me the other day. Two were red heads and apparently twins; except for the way their hair was parted the looked exactly the same. There was another blonde, but he was much shorter, with big brown eyes and clutching…a stuffed bunny? There was a really tall one in the back, with sooty black hair and a stoic expression. Another looked more like a girl my age with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Who I was surprised to see the most was Kyoya, of all people.

I stand up suddenly, every muscle in my back tense.

"I…I was…" I stutter, moving away from the bench. "I was…I…I…" Since when was I a stutterer?

The Tall Blonde suddenly grabbed me by my waist and swung me around. What the heck?

"THAT WAS MAGNIFICENT!" he exclaimed. I was staring to feel sick.

"Um, thanks-?" I begin. He interrupts me again:

"MAGICAL, ENCHANTING, JUST WONDERFUL!" he proclaimed, finally setting me down. I push myself away from him before I throw up. The world is spinning around in circles.

"Tamaki, let her—" Kyoya began, but he paid no attention.

"AND IT WAS SO SWEET! Were you composing that for your girlfriend?" he asked excitedly. I looked down at myself; I temporarily forgot I was a "boy."

"Um….yeah," I say, playing along. I don't swing both ways!

"YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY A HOST!" Tamaki yelled. I looked at all the others, who were all wearing the same expression: -_-

"Wait, what?" I said, confused. "A…host? What are you talking about?"

"Yes, a host! Entertaining the ladies with your musical talent! You shall be…THE MUSICAL TYPE!" he said, extending his forfinger in a rather dramatic fashion. Entertaining the ladies? Musical talent? _Hosting? _"That is, if your girlfriend is alright with that…" he said, more to himself than to me.

"Senpai…" the brown-haired one began.

"Um….I still don't know what you're talking about…" I said, emphasizing. He ignored me, still deep in thought.

"Boss—" the twins began, looking irritated. Tamaki's face lit up like in those Disney cartoons when a light bulb appears over their head.

"I play too! We shall do duets!" he proclaimed. Okay, it was official: _I had to get out of here. _

"Uh…thanks for the offer and all, but I really must be going!" I said, walking rather fast to the door. The ginger-headed twins blocked it, both grinning in a way that made me nervous.

"Wait a second…" one of them said. The peeked over my head and both said, at the same time: "Kyoya, what do you think?"

"I don't see why not," Kyoya's voice said from behind me. "But there's one hitch, Tamaki…a girl can't really be a host." I sighed in relief. At least _someone _noticed.

"She's not a girl…" Tamaki said, sounding defeated. I turn around.

"Thank you for making that clear," I say to Kyoya. He smiles. I look at Tamaki again. "It's true, dude." I said. Everyone was looking at me now. I don't like it. I stare down at my feet, my fingers tugging at my hair. No says anything for a long time.

"Well, I guess I really should be going now…" I say softly, turning around again. The twins move out of the way. I turn the doorknob and walk down the hallway without my books and homework. Oh well.

I hate boys.


	4. Chapter 3: Explaining

**A/N:**** hello, friends! Thanks for the wonderful reviews! :D Here's chapter 4!**

_Don't try to fix me, cause I'm not broken._

_-"Hello" by Evanescence_

I go home after the incident at the host club room; not that I had a better place to go. If there was a better place, I would go there, but there is none: I've got no friends, and I'm Invisible Girl in my own home. I unlock the front door adn walk inside. My dad's home; he's in the living room reading the newspaper, except it didn't really look like he was _reading_ it. His eyes seemed to be reading the same line over and over again.

"Hey, Dad." I say, setting down my schoolbag on the table. My dad snaps his head up, as if he just noticed I was there.

"Hello, Emiko." he said. "Good day today?" he asked, not sounding in the least bit interested in how my day was at all. I bite my tongue hard inside my mouth, trying not to scream.

"Peachy." I say, turning around and running up to my room. I was pissed; why do we talk to each other like we're a bunch of strangers? I thought parents were supposed to care, but they didn't give a crap about me. They lost their only child in August and they had to do something to keep their minds off of it. I guess that sounds pretty bitter. And I guess if you'd been there, you'd understand it better.

When my mom and dad got married, they started a family right away. But after a miscarriage and two more following, they weren't even sure if they would have a kid the old fashioned way. Every doctor they went to said that mom wouldn't be able to carry a kid fully to term. They've told me this story so many times I know it by heart; it's like they want me to appreciate my great good fortune in being conceived, but I wasn't-and I'm still not-appreciating it at all.

A little while after that, my mom finally got pregnant with Natsuko. She carried her for all nine months and then Natsuko was born, perfectly healthy and everything. The doctor said: "Well, sometimes nature fools us, but he'll be the only one you'll ever have. Thank heaven for him and be content. Eight years later she got pregnant with me. Not only was I carried to term also, but according to my mom, they practically had to yank me out of her. You ever hear of a family so screwed up?

In the case of my parents, one perfect child, one gift from Heaven had been enough. I was one heck of a shock, and I guess when you already have something you really want, you don't really need another.

This business about being ignored: I could never really put my finger on it until I had to read this book in English class a few years ago and then do a report on it. The book was about this guy who's totally invisible because he's black. Nobody notices him at all unless he screws up. People look right through him. When he talks, no one answers. He's like a black ghost. Once I got into it, I finished that book in less than two hours. The author was talking about _me._

In a family situation like mine, you're supposed to either hate the older sibling or totally idolize her-at least, that's what they say. Bullcrap, right? But as far as I can tell, I didn't feel either way about my sister. I loved her; I truly did, and I never hated her. We rarely argued and never had a fight, whether physical or verbal.

Natsuko took me to places; not because she had to, and not because she resented me for being her younger sibling. It was of her own free will, and those were the happiest times I can remember. Her friends would raise their eyebrows at me, as if to say: _who the crap is this chick and why is she with us? _but as soon as Natsuko told them I was her kid sister, they didn't mind at all. At eight years old, hanging out with a bunch of 18 year olds, I felt so cool.

She saw me when I was invisible. She heard me when I spoke. She loved me.

So, when she died...I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it; I refused to believe it. She would have been turning twenty-five later that week; I had already picked out a card and a gift at the store. I didn't even cry; I was in so much shock. When the inevitable finally set in, I bawled like a baby. I bawled even more at the funeral. I just couldn't believe that the person who saw me when no one else did, who used to freak me out with rubber spiders, who put rubbing alcohol on my knees when I scraped them and said: "now stop crying, you wuss!" was dead.

It took me a long time afterwards to realize that most of the tears I cried were for my mom and dad, not for myself. Fat lot of good it did for them, or me. They just fell to pieces, and I never really know if they'll ever be whole again. Natusko's room was across the hall from mine, and none of us dared go in there. I went in there once, just to grab something she borrowed from me, and when I opened the door the smell of her perfume nearly bowled me over. I sat on the floor for the longest time with tears in my eyes until I finally got enough guts to go in there.

Mostly it was her closet that freaked me out. If mom asked me to get Natsuko's photo album from her room, I would imagine the closet door opening slowly, and Natusko coming out in her dead form, blood all over one side of her head, her arms coming up and her bloody hands reaching for me. And she would be saying:

_It should have been you, Em. It should have been you. _


	5. Chapter 4: The Interview and the Secret

**A/N:**** hello, my fellow writers! :D So sorry I haven't updated in a long time, but I've been so incredibly busy it's ridiculous. XD Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** Unfortunately, I do not own Ouran HSHC, although I must admit I really want to. And I do not own the following song.**

"_Broken pieces of a barely breathing story, where there once was love…now, there's only me….and the lonely…."_

_-Christina Perri, "The Lonely"_

"Psst."

I look up, slightly confused. I thought someone was talking to me. I shrug to myself and continue reading the book we are currently reading in English. I've already read it before, so I don't mind reading it again. It's one of my favorites.

"Psst! Hey. You." A poke in my left shoulder. I put the book down and turn around, annoyed. The redhead sitting behind me puts a finger to her lips and hands me a folded note.

"Not sure who it's from," Redhead whispers as I take the note from her fingers. "Someone handed it to me and told me to give it to you."

I nod thanks, then turn back around and prop up the book against my chest. Quietly, behind the safety of _Lord of the Flies,_ I open the note. It's only three or four sentences long and it definitely looks like a guy wrote it. It read:

_Please come to Music Room #3 directly after school today for an interview with the Host Club of Ouran High School. You'll see what it is about when you get there. ;) _

No signature. I sigh as I stuff the note into my pocket and look over at Kyoya. He has his chin in hand, looking totally and utterly bored, his eyes moving slowly across the pages. This note could from him; well, then again, it could be from Hyperactive-Blondie, AKA

Tamaki. Oh well. Looks like I'm going there after school today.

I walk down the hallways after school, trying to squeeze past the cluster of people. When I finally reach Music Room #3 I open the door and walk inside. Kyoya's sitting on the couch, writing something on a clipboard. He looks up when he hears the door shut behind me. He puts on a fake smile and stands up.

"Hello," he says, putting the clipboard down for a moment and sticking out his hand. "I'm Kyoya." He said, smiling. "You must be Emiko."

I nod and shake his hand; it's warm against my cold fingertips. He lets go after a moment and sits back down, motioning me to do the same. I slowly sit down on a comfortable armchair and put my bag down next to me.

"Is everyone else going to be here too…?" I ask. Since when did my voice get so quiet? Kyoya shook his head.

"Everyone else is busy; they asked me to fill in for it." He said. My breath hitches in my throat and I nod again. Why can't I say anything? It's like I have some kind of spastic laryngitis.

"Well, let's begin," he said, picking up his clipboard and smoothly taking out a pencil from behind his ear. "Full name?"

"Emiko Shizune…" I say my voice still mouse-quiet. He writes something down on his clipboard and then continues:

"What kind of things do you like?" I don't answer for a while. I've never really thought about things like that.

"Um…" I say. Since when was I this articulate? "Why do you want to know?" Kyoya shrugs. I sigh and continue: "anything to do with water." He puts on another plastic smile and writes it down. He asks me a few more questions that are really quite stupid and pointless, then finishes with the one I dread the most:

"What's your family like? Any siblings?" I freeze but then melt just as fast so he doesn't suspect anything. I force myself to put on a smile.

"Two parents and I have an older sister." _HAD an older sister,_ I correct myself silently. Kyoya smiles softly.

"Really? What's her name?" he asks.

"Natsuko." I say, smiling. "She graduated here a year or two ago." Why am I telling lies about my sister, convincing him that she's still alive? He nods. There's a few more questions and then he stands up again.

"Well, Emiko, it's been a pleasure." He says a stupid plastic smile still on his face. I smile back because it's polite, nod, and leave, all the while beating the snot out of myself in my head because I was telling lies. I hate lying, I really do, but sometimes it's the best thing to do. No one wants to hear the truth.

When I get back to my house, no one's there; this is a good thing. I go upstairs and put my bag in my room. I open up my music box that I got for Christmas some 4-odd years ago and take out the razor. I take off my jacket and unbutton my shirt, pulling my sleeves up. My arms are covered in scars and there's some small burn marks here and there.

I take a deep breath and drag the razor across my forearm; three perfect cuts in a row, letting the ghosts and whispers and pain leak out of my skin.

You might think I would've first done this when Natsuko died, but that wasn't the case: I did some of these long before she died. Like the evening she graduated from High School I played sick and got to stay home. While they were cheering her on and giving her multiple hugs I was in my bedroom with a razor blade in my hand and tears running down my cheeks. Yes, it did get worse after she died; it got a lot worse, and since my parents glide around like zombies they don't notice that for the rest of August I wore long sleeved-shirts even though it was roasting outside.

I got to the bathroom, rinse the razor out and put it away where it belonged, in the bathroom drawer. I put my hand over my weeping cuts until they stop bleeding. When I take it away my hand is smeared with red. I pour peroxide over them and put a large band-aid over them after the peroxide sting goes away.


	6. Chapter 5: The Offer

**A/N: ****yes, I know I haven't updated in a while. I'm sorry! I've been so busy -_- stupid schoolwork….anyway. Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer:**** sadly, I do not own Ouran, or the following song.**

"_I just ran out of band-aids, I don't even know where to start; you can't bandage the damage, you never really can fix a heart."_

_-Demi Lovato, "Fix a Heart"_

I go to school the next day with a band-aid over the cuts on my left arm. Thankfully my jacket covers up my secrets and lies.

I go to my locker and twist the dial: 27, 58, 34. _click. _I pull my locker open and a folded note falls out like a feather onto the ground. I pick it up and put it in my jacket pocket while I grab my English book and put my Science folder back in. I shut my locker and open the note. Sure enough, it's from that stupid club again, asking me to come AGAIN for another interview. I sigh as I stuff the note back into my pocket.

I guess I'm going there after school again. Hooray. 

I pull the handle of the heavy door open and poke my head in. All seven—or six—men turn around and look at me, and they all go silent. I can feel a thousand paparazzi cameras snapping a picture of my face. I look away and make my way over to an empty chair, sitting down without a word. I set my bag down on the floor and patiently wait for them to say something.

Finally, Tamaki breaks the ice:

"Hello, Miss Emiko! Thank you for joining us today!" he says cheerfully. I nod, wondering how he can be so damn optimistic. It gets on my nerves, but I can't help but smile. It reminds me of my sister. Tamaki smiles brightly and sits in a chair across from me. The rest of the club chit-chatters but I can tell they're really listening to what Tamaki's telling me.

"Well, let's get started! How long have you been playing the piano?" he asks eagerly. I bite my lip and think.

"I actually don't know," I say with a small smile. "Ever since I could remember, really…" Tamaki smiles and nods. When he doesn't say anything more I continue: "When I was five, I'm guessing." I say again.

Tamaki nods.

"What was the piece you were playing when we came in? I never heard it before…" he asked. At this I could feel my face going pink. I wasn't about to tell him I was just improvising and it wasn't something someone famous wrote. But I didn't have anything else to say.

"Um…its an original…" I mumble. "I was just improvising…"

When Tamaki doesn't say anything, I look up. When I see his face I can't help but laugh. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates and his mouth was open down to his chest.

"You WROTE that?" he nearly shouts. I nod. "Have you written anything else?" he asks, as if he's so eager to know what it is. I nod again. I have a whole folder of original compositions at home.

"Wow…" he says, still in complete and total awe. I shrug one shoulder like its not that big of a deal, because it isn't. Anyone can create something.

The "interview" went on for five more minutes, him eagerly asking questions and me dully replying to them. The dullness and sarcasm of some of my answers went right over his head, so I gave up about halfway through and started really answering them. What's weird is that I liked talking to him. I liked talking to this blonde, over-enthusiastic moron. He was…easy to talk to, in a way.

Tamaki asked me one last question, then stood up and made an announcement: "its official! Emiko is our piano player!"

Say what?

I stand up and begin to protest: "Uh, Tamaki, I really can't—"

Tamaki ignored me and began to blabber on about how talented and awesome and creative I was. I began to interject, saying I wasn't going to do the stupid job and how non-talented I was. Everyone watched our argument back and forth like a tennis match. It wasn't really an argument; more like a debate. But all the same, I protested.

"You're going to be wonderful!" Tamaki said eagerly. "we will hear your spectacular talent while we entertain the ladies!" I looked at him in disgust at this. I wasn't going to play for anyone, especially the stupid girls at this High School.

"Please?"

"No!"

"Please?"

"I said no!"

"please!"

"N-O. NO."

"PLEASE!"

"FINE!"

"Really?" Tamaki said, his face lighting up eagerly. I sigh in frustration.

"Yes!" I nearly shout. "Fine! Whatever! I'll do it! Just be—"

"Wonderful!" Tamaki said, clapping his hands together. He walked in a circle around me, observing. I felt myself go stiff. He turned to the others: "What do you think, men?"

"Well," said one of the redheaded twins. "She could use some cleaning up…" I raise an eyebrow.

"How…?" I ask carefully. Both twins grin and walk over to me.

"Your glasses, for one," the other one said, reaching for them. "They're like coke bottles…"

I didn't wear glasses because I couldn't see. I could see just fine. I just wore them as part of the uniform; make myself look more like a guy. And to be honest, I was glad they noticed this first thing. I was starting to get a bad headache.

"And they don't suit you." They said in unison as they pulled the glasses off my face. They both frowned, and then used one hand to brush some hair out of my eyes. Their own green eyes widened, and their jaws dropped. Their very ears seemed to release steam.

"What?" I ask. My eyes weren't anything special: in my opinion they were too big for my face and too electric of a blue. They made me look like a dragonfly.

"Your eyes…" they said, in almost a whisper. I started backing away, getting uncomfortable.

"Let me see!" the midget blonde said, running over to me. I looked down at him, and he squealed. "They're so pretty!"

_Pretty? _That's a new one.

I went home after about an hour. I wanted to leave right after everyone stopped googling over my eyes, but they were firm. Next was my hair: Said I needed to grow it out. I said I liked it short. That way I didn't have to deal with it. They gave up on that after a while. What really killed me was they said I needed to start wearing dresses. I shivered at the memory. I _hate _dresses; I have a very strict no-ruffles, lace, or roses policy. The only way people can force me into a dress is to put it on my cold, dead, body. I'm sure I was pretty firm on that because they didn't bring it up for the rest of the interview.

I'm a bit excited. I hate to admit it, but I am. I'm not sure why: maybe it's the fact that my invisible shield went down and they seemed so excited. I start next Monday, and although I'm playing for the Rich and the Snobby, I'm excited to share what I have written down. Now _that _is weird to think about: I never ever want to share my music with _anyone. _I didn't even share it with Natsuko when she was alive. It was too personal.

And yet as soon as I was home, the joy drizzled out of me slowly. I sighed and trudged up to my room. I looked out the window and saw my parents outside; they didn't even recognize I was home, the morons.

I go to the bathroom and take out the razor again. I give myself three identical cuts on my right arm. Now it matches the left.

**A/N:**** please review! ^^**


	7. Chapter 6: Newsflash!

**A/N:**** Hey y'all! Thanks for continuing to read! I really appreciate the support. ^^ **

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own **_**Ouran High School Host Club **_**or the following song.**

_"And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in grey, and the sun will set for you." - Shadow of the Day, Linkin' Park_

I make it through the first month and a half of school without a nuclear breakdown. I feel proud of myself; grades are good and all. I should get a reward.

The job at the club is going well; better than I expected, really. I just sit there and play and no one bothers me. Just how I like it. I take a look around every so often and I have to try not to gag; these stupid girls are practically swooning over them. It's like if Tamaki or any of the others step in dog crap there'd be a line of fangirls a million miles long to like it off their royal toes. Give me a break.

It's not just the girls that are giving me trouble. I get tripped in the hallways occasionally and sometimes my books ''accidentally'' get ripped out of my hands and thrown on the floor. I don't know what their problem is; I know the girls are only jealous, but why are some guys doing it as well? I don't know. I try not to dwell on it; it has to go away eventually.

Tamaki sometimes plays duets with me; He's not that bad; pretty good, actually. But he continues to gush over how awesomely creative I am. He can talk for hours. All I have to do is nod and "uh-huh" a couple of times. The girls ooh and ah over him and then they give me a death glare like we're dating or something.

Hunni-senpai has fallen in love with me. Everytime I walk into the room he yells my name and gives me a hug. It's really cute, actually, and I don't mind. He's like the little brother I've never had and my new best friend. Sometimes while I play he asks me to play a song, one of his favorites, and I do and he hums happily along. He always gives me a slice of cake and jabbers on about school and kendo and his teachers and something funny Mori did the other day. I should record his voice and listen to it when he's not around.

Haruhi and I have become friends too; we share the same interests and talk a lot about how much of an idiot Tamaki is. She's the first friend I've had in a long time.

I can't help but wonder about Kyoya, though. Can't those girls tell that his smile is fake, or that he probably doesn't even care about them? oh, I forgot; they're stupid, so they must not know. I don't even know why I'm wondering this - sure, he's smart, popular, always writing in that notebook of doom - but I don't know why I care so much. I shouldn't, really.

The club is over for the day; I'm packing up my sheet music and head over to the couch and pull out my homework. No point in going home, so why not do it here? It's nice and quiet now that the fangirls have left; my ears still ring with their squeals, though.

I pull out the English homework - Romeo and Juliet questions - and a pencil. I begin to write the answers in peace until a voice above me says: "hey." I look up and see Kyoya. Weird; I thought he already left.

"Hi..." I say. He smiles and I give a small smile back.

"Homework?" he asks, sitting down on the couch across from me. I nod. "English?" he asks again, looking at the paper. I nod again and before I know it I'm talking.

"Romeo and Juliet..." I say, with disgust in my voice. He chuckles.

"Don't like Shakespeare?" He asks. I shake my head.

"I love Shakespeare, but I hate this play." I erase a couple of answers and rewrite them. "I mean, what are they trying to teach us by making us read it? Don't marry your sworn enemy and then kill yourself?"

He laughs. I look up in slight surprise. I had never heard him laugh before. It was...musical, I suppose. Rich and full of a brief moment of happiness. I smile softly.

He stops laughing after a few moments and says: "I've been thinking that same exact thing for the longest time." he grins. "it really is kind of stupid." I nod in agreement.

"So how've you been?" he asks in his 'I'm-a-host-of-Ouran-High-School voice'.

"I'm good," I say, lying through my teeth.

He buys it. "That's good," he replies, a small smile bending his lips. I nod.

He asks a few more questions: how's school going, how long have you been playing piano, etc. What surprises me is that I answer them somewhat truthfully. I don't know why; I know he's not really interested. Probably for business purposes. Maybe new stuff to write in his Death Note notebook.

After a few more minutes the homework is done and I begin packing up. I tell him it was nice talking to him, but I really should be heading home. He says he understands and that it was nice talking too. I stand up and a small photograph falls out of my lap. Damn. I forgot I took that out. I reach for it, but he gets it first. He picks it up and takes a look at it.

"This your sister?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, trying to swallow my oncoming tears. "That's Natsuko." He studies it a bit more, then says:

"She's quite pretty." I'm not surprised when he says this. Natsuko got the beauty when she was born and I got the plainness. I nod and take back the photo, putting it in my pocket.

"I have a question. How come I couldn't find anything about her on Ouran's records?" he asks.

My fingers freeze and my heart skips a beat. I can feel vines growing out of the ground and weave them into a tight spiral around me until they reach the ceiling and I can barely see him through the thorns. They block out most of his words. I avoid his questioning gaze and look at the floor.

"She's dead..." I hear my lips say. "She died this past summer..." I can't look back up at him because I don't want him to see the tears perched on the ends of the lashes, waiting for the cue to fall.

"Emiko-" he begins.

"I have to go." I say, and I pick up my bag and run, run, run until my feet hit the front step and I open the door and run up to my room, not even bothering to turn on the lights. I go to my closet without putting down my bag and bury my face in old clothes that haven't fit for years and scream and cry until there are no sounds left under my skin.


	8. A Short, Brief, Apologetic Author's Note

**Hello, everyone -**

**As you can tell, I am EXTREMELY busy: I have a research paper from the depths of Hades' lair that's extremly difficult, I'm in a musical that opens in a week, and lots of other stuff. It's not because I don't want to write - I have been writing more chapters, I just haven't had the time to upload them. Please forgive me! Don't hate me, I'll be back soon, I pinky promise! **

**Love, IchigoxLawliet10**


	9. Chapter 7: Hold Still

**A/N: ****yes, I KNOW it has been a while, but these past weeks have been SO FREAKING BUSY! GRR! . anyway, here's the next chapter! Thanks for hanging in there!**

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own Ouran HSHC**

_"I can't go on living this way, but I can't go back the way I came: chained to this fear that I will never find a way to heal my soul..." -Evanescence, "My Heart Is Broken"_

The first few weeks after my sister died, I had this ridiculous idea in my head that things were going to get better: my parents and I would start talking more and more, and we'd never shut each other out. But after the first few weeks of school, I gave up on that wisp of hope. It was never going to happen. People say death brings families closer together. Not mine.

I've given up trying: trying to make everything better, trying to not mutilate myself, trying to bring my parents and I closer together. But that doesn't mean I tried my hardest. I did, I really did. But then I realized there was really nothing I could do.

I skip the rest of school after lunch the next day. I usually don't do something like that, but being in the hallways with all those people squishing me, I felt claustrophobic. As soon as I walked out the double doors I was sure someone would catch me; I kept looking over my shoulder like I was paranoid or something. But nobody caught me. Immediately the feeling of being closed in escaped me and I felt so free.

As soon as I felt I was out of view, I started walking to an unknown place, debating in my head where to go: not the mall, too many people. Not the diner, I'm not hungry. As I'm deciding, a middle-aged woman walking a dog comes near me, and my stomach tightens, but she just walks right past me. Guess I'm a ghost to people I don't even know, too. Pretty soon I'm at the top of a big hill, looking over some parts of the city. I see Ouran High School and for a fleeting moment it seems so small, with the people moving around like specks. It was a cool thing to watch: I know there's people in there worrying about things like tests or whether or not to kiss in the hallway, but standing on top of this hill looking down at them, they're so small.

I continue to walk after a few minutes, and I come across a giant field of flowers. They're not weed-flowers, but actual daisies and hydrangeas and bleeding hearts shooting up to be as tall as my waist. I walk through them, my fingertips grazing across the many petals, and I smile to myself. I feel like I'm in one of those scenes from old movies where a girl in a bright dress is running through a field of flowers, laughing and picking them while her boyfriend watches, chuckling at the sight of his one true love.

Since no one else is around, I let myself be a dork. I twirl in the flowers, their stems tickling my hands and feet until I'm too dizzy and I fall backwards, landing in a soft patch of bright green grass. I close my eyes, the entire world still spinning, and listen to the birds sing. It's places like these where I get some of my inspiration for writing my music - Nature has that weird effect on me where all the sudden I need a pen and sheet of paper, fast so I can write something down.

After the world stops spinning, I open my eyes and watch the clouds go by for the rest of the day, feeling a powerful sense of peace.

Later that night, I come downstairs and walk into the kitchen. My mom is washing something at the sink and my dad is frying something up in a pan. Today was a good day, so I feel like being social with them.

"Do you guys need help with anything?" I ask.

My mom looks over her shoulder at me and smiles a very small smile. "It'd be great if you could chop up an onion and put it in the pan."

I go to the pantry and grab an onion from the bottom shelf. I pull out the cutting board, get a knife, and start chopping. My eyes are already tearing up; powerful onion. Suddenly I have the strangest urge to slice my hand open, on purpose, so that they would at least give me some attention. I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and get my thoughts straightened out.

The phone rings and my dad wipes his hands on his jeans and presses the speaker button. "Hello?"

A recorded voice comes on after a few moments: _"This is the Ouran High School Attendance Office reporting that your child missed one or more periods today. The absence will be marked as unexcused unless we receive a note of some kind or explanation from a parent or guardian explaining that the absence was due to an important appointment." _

My mom turns off the water. My dad turns off the heat on the stove. I stand with my back to them, chopping.

Crap. I forgot about the stupid phone calls.

"Emiko, did you cut school?" My mother's voice seems a bit high-pitched like it does when she's stressed about something.

I stop chopping and turn around, thinking maybe they'll soften up when they see what the onion did to my eyes. But they simply stand there, waiting for an answer. I can't think of a good excuse, so I just shrug. My father is biting his lip like he does when he's impatient and frustrated. Mom sighs.

"Emiko, you can't ditch school." Dad says firmly. "When you chose to be in this high school as an honor student you made a commitment that you wouldn't skip."

_Like you even give a crap!_ I want to scream. _Like you care so much about what's going on in my school life. Funny that you should care about it now, all of the sudden - when Natsuko was around you never cared about what I did! _

"Since when are you so concerned about my school status?" I say to him. The amount of venom in my voice shocks me.

"What are you talking about? We've always cared." Mom says, her voice sounding slightly hurt.

"School is important, Emiko." Dad says, his voice straining with patience. "When people start skipping school it could lead to so many other bad things..."

I tune him out and return to the onion. I hear a buzz in my ear about my parents ranting on and on about the dangers and consequences of skipping school until it seems absurd that we're even talking about this. I realize that I'm still chopping that stupid onion even though it's already diced and ready to be put in the pan.

When I can't take it anymore, I turn around and look at both of them. "You guys are acting psychotic! It was the first and probably the only time I will skip school! It's not that big of a freakin' deal!" by now I'm shouting . I'm so frustrated and sad and angry at the same time that I dare to say the inevitable: "When Natsuko skipped school you didn't care!"

My parents stare at me. My father's eyes are hard as stone and my mother looks like she's about to burst into tears. There's a silence so incredibly loud and heavy that no one wants to shatter it. I stand there, feeling like I'm burning holes into them by staring so hard.

After an eternity my mother turns back to her washing. "Please put the onion in the pan, Emiko." She says quietly.

That was the worst thing she could have said. I expected the silence when I mentioned my sister's name. and then maybe a squabble or fight afterwards, not turning back to our dinner and pretending that everything is just fine.

I pick up the cutting board and walk to the pan. I scrape the onion into the sizzling heat with the knife I was using, purposely screeching it against the cutting board. Why am I acting like this? After that I carefully put the cutting board on the counter, then practically throw the knife into the sink. The sound is loud, but not loud enough to break the heavy silence. Even if I screamed at the top of my lungs and shattered all the windows and mirrors, it wouldn't be loud enough.

I stomp up to my room and slam my door hard. Then I angrily grab my special pencil and pad of paper and begin to write a new song. I don't think I've ever heard silence quite this loud.


	10. Chapter 8: Lies

**A/N: ****hey y'all! :D Thought I'd give you guys a chapter before I head off camping for the week :) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****No, I don't own Ouran HSHC, but thanks for asking. **

_"He sees everything black and white, never lets nobody see him cry; I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine..." -Taylor Swift, "I'd Lie"_

_About one month later from the last chapter, this happened!_

I am on enemy lines. I constantly look at my surroundings: look to the left..look to the right..look to the left again...okay, they're not here. I sigh in relief and walk down the hallways. My footsteps echo across the hallways and I try my best not to let my heels click on the floor; they might hear them. I know I'm acting paranoid, but I can't help it, because if I stop acting paranoid, they'll catch me. The two of them have been trying to find me for an hour, but I'm not letting them catch up to me. I know what they want and they're not getting it. **(A/N: if any of you reading this have a dirty mind, no, it is not what you're thinking.) **

Okay. I suppose I need to explain what's going on: the twins have this weird idea in their ginger heads that I like someone. Specifically, that I like someone in the host club; and _every freaking time_, I tell them that's not true, because I don't like anyone, Host Club or not. And yet, they still ask me the same question over and over again, because they're so convinced that I have a stupid crush on someone. Well guess what: I DON'T!

To continue, Hunny-senpai came up to me today after school and told me Hikaru and Kaoru were looking for me. When I asked why, Hunny said that they are trying to get me to go to the Winter Ball we've been planning using "extreme tactics."

I've been hiding ever since, waiting until everyone is out of the school so I can get the heck out of here.

The Winter Ball is tomorrow night, and Tamaki has been planning the stupid thing since Halloween ended. I've grown sick of his voice talking about "the most wonderful time of year" and "the season of romance" and "blue and white roses." I've already told him I couldn't go: got lots of homework, my parents need me for something, even the dumb excuse that Haruhi and I are choreographing a dance for something. Yes, he bought the last one.

My clammy hand touches the cold brass doorknob to the room of the Host Club, and I open it a sliver. All the windows are dark and the lights are out. I open it a bit wider and peek my entire face inside. My eyes get used to the darkness and I make out the couch, piano, and end tables...but no ginger heads. I walk inside, the cool air blowing my bangs out of my face as I make my way to my favorite armchair.

Suddenly the lights turn on overhead, and the next thing I know I am on the floor and all I can see is carroty hair.

"We've been expecting you.." Hikaru says in a mischievous voice.

"I noticed." I say darkly, my voice muffled. My face is in one of their chests. "Can you get off me?"

"Nope," Kaoru says, in an equally mischievous voice.

"Kaoru." I say, the frustration boiling in my veins, "in case you didn't notice, it's kind of hard to breathe when your chest is on my face!"

"Too bad!" both of them say in unison, and I can practically hear the grins in their voices.

"What do you want?" I shout, knowing perfectly well what, my nose pressed hard against Kaoru's chest.

"You know perfectly well what!" Hikaru says.

"You need to come to the winter ball!" Kaoru finishes.

I somehow manage to push both of them off of me and sit up, my hair floating around my face because of all the static. "How many times do I have to tell you? I. Am not. Going! and that's that!"

"You need to go!" Kaoru cries. "The boss will FREAK if you don't!"

"He'll get over it," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, just like he got over it when Haruhi went 'missing.'" Hikaru says sarcastically. "Trust us, Emiko, if you don't go, Tamaki will cling to you, pleading with you to ask why you didn't come and grow mushrooms on Monday."

"We've had experience." Kaoru says, shuddering. "you do NOT want to make the boss upset."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Why do you guys want me to go so bad?" I ask, rubbing my aching temples.

"Because." they both say in unison.

"I figured as much..." I mutter.

"And besides-" Kaoru begins.

"-_he _will be there..." Hikaru finishes with a wink.

Oh no. Not this again. "I don't like anybody!" I exclaim.

"Oh please, Emi, don't bother lying." Hikaru says bluntly.

"I'm not lying! I don't have any interest of any kind in ANYBODY!"

"Then why is your face red?" Kaoru says, grinning broadly.

I look in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. My face _is _red, tomato red - CRAP! I look back at them. They're both in the same position, arms crossed, knowing grins on their faces. I'm so mad I can't think of anything to say back. I want to say something mean and blunt, but all I can do is do the most childish thing in the world: I stick out my tongue.

The twins laugh. In fact, they can't stop laughing for about ten minutes.

When Hikaru finally caught his breath, he said: "I'm truly offended, Emiko."

"Shut your face." I growl. I've had enough of this. I turn around and walk to the door; I am getting out of here, going home, taking a nap, and forgetting about tomorrow.

"ah ah ah..." I hear Kaoru say. "I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

I turn around. "And why the heck not?"

The twins' ever-mischievous grins return to their faces as they hold up a couple pieces of paper stapled together at the sides. My eyes widen and I can feel my jaw dropping and all the angry steam being released from my ears. This is not good. This is not good at all. What the twins are dangling from their fingertips is sheet music. _My _sheet music. Specifically, the sheet music of one specific song that just so happens to be about _one specific person._

Oh, they're in deep crap now.

"Where did you get that?" I say, barely above a whisper. The twins' grins immediately disappear as they hear the amount of poison in my voice. Not very many people have seen me mad, and if they have, it usually ended in serious injury among the other person.

The twins pointed to my bag, which I dropped when they tackled me. It was open.

"Never leave your bag open." they both say in unison.

Epic silence.

"We've seen the way you look at him." Kaoru says quietly.

"If you don't go, we'll tell him everything...and show him this." Hikaru says, smirking and holding up the sheet music with: _Dedicated to "Him" _written in the corner.

I snatch the sheet music from him. "Fine." I snarl, then stomp out of there.


	11. Chapter 9: Frozen

**A/N: ****Well, hello there! Now before you all start wondering "WHERE THE FREAK HAVE YOU BEEN, LADY?!" let me explain a few things. I have had serious writers block for a while, not just with this story but with all of my other ones. I had no idea what to write, and I couldn't write for a while, which made me really upset and depressed. Along with that, some other issues came along that I couldn't control. I sincerely hope you all understand and forgive me for being gone for so long…**

**Disclaimer: ****I only own Emi. **

Crap. I'm running late. I curse under my breath as I slam another drawer closed. Where in the world is that confounded dress? I glance at the clock again, biting my lip. Maybe I just shouldn't go. It wouldn't matter much. But then I think about those evil twins and their stupid warning and I have to force myself to move.

Well, the dress is not in my room. Only one other option.

I almost knock on my sister's bedroom door, but then I remember that she's never coming home again. _Just go in there, grab the dress, and get out, _I tell myself. _It's that simple. _But in all reality, it's not. As soon as I open the door I wave of my sister's smell raids my nostrils: roses and cinnamon, with just a touch of the bag of Doritos she always stored under her bed for a midnight snack.

I grab the dress and make it out in record time before I start to cry. I should get going.

By the time I get there my armpits are soaked and my hair is sticking up everywhere because I kept pulling on it. The wind from walking to the school didn't help much either.

I pull open the door to the Host Club room and walk inside. Only Haruhi is there, wearing a long white dress accompanied by a brown wig to make her hair longer. Tamaki's doing, I guess.

"Oh, hey Em –" She stops as she looks at me. There's only silence between us. "What – "

I wave my hand. "Don't even ask. Sorry I'm late." I make my way for the changing room, but Haruhi's voice stops me.

"Wait, Emiko. What are you wearing?" I hold up the dress. She raises her eyebrows. "Um….hang on, let me get the twins." And with that, she runs out of the room.

"Emi? What the heck is that?" Hikaru points an accusing finger at the fabric.

Frustration boils inside me, leaking through my pores and voice. "It's called a dress. Girls wear them, and sometimes men. Is that a problem?"

Kaoru blinks in surprise. "Uh, no, it's just that…it's so…so…."

"Plain," Hikaru finishes.

_That's the point, _I say to myself. But I can't help but smile; they're right. It's a knee-length, black dress with roses on the long sleeves.

"Oh, absolutely not," the twins say together. "This will not do."

"They're right," Haruhi says, running a brush through her hair one last time. "It's a formal dance, Em."

"_Ball,_" the twins say together. "It's a _ball, _not a dance."

"Same difference." Haruhi shoots back.

I sigh. "Well, I was running late and I don't have any dresses besides this one. Sorry."

From the moment I say the last word, a grin appears on the twins faces. I scold myself for apologizing as I am half-walked, half-dragged into a changing room and a new dress is thrown at my head.

The girl in the mirror is not me. I stare at myself, wide-eyed and dumbfounded in the mirror. I don't know how the twins immediately knew my measurements and size, but they got it spot on. Sparkling turquoise covers me from bust to toe, the dress being nearly the same color as my eyes. The dress is somewhat low cut, making me blush with both somewhat shame and a bit of glee. I've never worn something like this. There was never a point to, since I have almost no chest.

There's only one problem: it's strapless. And strapless = bare arms. And bare arms = scars.

"You done in there?" the twins pull back the curtain. I immediately tuck my hands and forearms behind my back. I nod.

"Oh snap," Kaoru says. I feel my blood go cold. "We forgot the finishing touch."

Hikaru grabs a weird, shawl-like thing and tosses it to Kaoru. The good news is, it includes sleeves, long ones. **(Okay, if you're totally confused about the dress, just imagine that it's Elsa's dress from **_**Frozen, **_**if you've seen it. If not, just look it up. I WANT THAT DRESS SO BAD. Ahem. Moving on - ) **I could do it myself but Kaoru is already slipping my left arm into the sleeve. He tugs on my right arm, then stops. I look down, wondering what could be wrong.

The world around me freezes and shatters into a million pieces. It feels like a million paparazzi cameras are snapping photos of me, flashing their bulbs and leaving me blind. I can feel myself shaking, but I'm not cold.

Kaoru, sleeve in one hand, my arm in the other, stares at the marks on my skin. Can't say I blame him: it's my own personal canvas.

"You guys almost done in there?" Haruhi calls out from behind.

Time snaps back in place. "Uh, yeah." Kaoru says, yanking the sleeve up my arm and tossing the miniature cape onto my back. "We're coming." He stands up and smiles at me as if what he just looked at flew over his head. "You ready?"

And I smile back, like nothing in the entire world is wrong.

"Oh, Emiko," Haruhi breathes as I walk out. "You look wonderful!"

I manage to choke out a thank-you. Hikaru slips a silver masquerade mask around my eyes as Haruhi brushes my hair down. "Remember our deal," he manages to whisper in my ear.

It's showtime.

I have to admit, they did a pretty good job. Ice sculptures everywhere, white and blue ribbons and streamers lacing the walls. I walk in, pulling at my sleeves even though they stop right at my wrists. Kaoru's face has been burned into my mind and I want to reopen all those scars just thinking about it. I want to reach into his mind and wipe that memory clean. There's not enough bleach to do that.

I see him across the room. Prince Charming, the twins would dub him. I don't even know how they were smart enough to figure out my feelings besides looking at my private sheet music. "Him", the person I dedicated the piece to, could have been anyone. They're a lot smarter than I thought. And I am annoyed at that fact.

He's wearing a white suit, which is a nice compliment to his dark hair. He's nodding at people and smiling politely. Then he glances at me, and something happens that scares me: I feel like I'm the only person in the room, and suddenly I feel so vulnerable.

For a single moment, I feel like everything is fine. But then Tamaki had to be an idiot and ask me to dance.

After dancing with two, three, four, _five _people I wonder if I'll even get the chance of being in his arms. I shake my head at that last thought. I'm starting to sound like a rabid fangirl.

But then he's there, holding out his hand and asking me to dance. I can't think of anything to say, so I just nod. He's a surprisingly good dancer, smooth and graceful. He manages to unfreeze my lips with small talk and I allow myself to smile and occasionally laugh. The dance is over too soon, and while everyone is applauding the orchestra, Prince Charming leans in my ear and whispers, "You look beautiful."

I'm pretty sure my heart just exploded because of two realizations: Number one, I actually feel beautiful and confident. Number two, the twins were right. I am in love with the Shadow King of the Host Club.


	12. Chapter 10: Haunted

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Again, I give my humblest apologies for not updating sooner – like I said last time, this tale has had me STUCK so freaking bad. But, here's another chappie for ya! :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran, nor will I ever own Ouran. Sad day!**

"_Lie to me – convince me that I've been sick forever, and all of this will make sense when I get better…but I know the difference between myself and my reflection; I just can't help but to wonder: which of us do you love?" –Breathe No More, Evanescence_

The winter ball left a little spark in me for awhile. For about a week it was easier to breathe. I felt truly happy for the first time in months, maybe even years. There was literally a spring in my step and a smile in my heart.

And then Christmas came.

Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas: the lights, the warm fuzzies you get during the special season, not to mention the goodies. When I was a little kid, we would chop down a real tree from up in the mountains and tie it on the top of the car. The house would be full with the scent of pine needles and warm hugs and sugar cookies. The angst in me about my parents would disappear, and for the whole month of December they saw me with clear eyes.

This Christmas was wrapped in cheap plastic and served with a side of bullcrap. My mother, being the good woman she is, tried to make it like it was last year. We even chopped down a tree and hung the traditional ornaments. A part of me appreciated the effort she made. Another part of me wanted to scream. Like everything else, it just wasn't the same without Natsuko.

We got up at ten a.m. Christmas morning. Natsuko would always get me up at the butt crack of dawn to look at the presents since she could never sleep. I got my mom a couple of new sewing patterns and thread (that woman can sew like no one else), and I got dad a couple of CDs from his favorite band. What surprised me the most was what they got me: along with some new clothes and other things lay some fine, crisp parchment, and a bunch of fine-tipped pens for new sheet music. They say they've noticed me composing like crazy.

A lump forms in my throat, cutting off my air. My heart floods with so many different things: gratitude, heartache, loneliness, with a touch of forgiveness. A tear escapes my eyes before I can stop it. It lands on the fine parchment, staining it grey. The only thing I can manage to say is, "Thank you."

After Christmas break, school resumes. The teachers flood us with quizzes and tests since the new semester is starting, but I'm so full of leftover Christmas food and warm fuzzies that my mind draws a blank on all of them.

**Later…**

He haunts me. My eyes betray me, looking up from the piano keys and follow him throughout the room. The minute he glances over his shoulder I snap back to attention. Heat rises to my cheeks and the tips of my ears and I burn, the fire in my heart blazing. I mutter curses at myself the whole time; even if there was a ghost of a chance he had the same feelings it would be all for naught. I'm not stupid like the other girls. And if that ghost of a chance did exist, he would only like the reflection I show. There's a reason why I don't let anyone too close: they would see the shadows lurking under my skin and the tears that make my eyes glassy. They would see the real me: a selfish, lonely weirdo. And then they would leave me.

They would leave me, just like my sister did.

The anger at that thoughts courses through my blood and I slam the piano keys in frustration. I got a few quizzical looks from some girls sipping tea, but I give an apologetic smile and resume.

Afterward, Kyoya comes up to me. "Hello, Emiko. Did you have a good Christmas?"

I'm ready to say that it was wonderful and nice, but for some reason I tell him the truth. "It was alright," I shrug a shoulder. "it could've been better, though. How was yours?"

"It was…fabulous." A shadow flickers in his eyes, and I see something I never have before: a trace of sadness. And hidden beneath that, anger. What on earth could he be sad or angry about? He's the vice president of the Host Club of Ouran High School, for heaven's sake. I've seen his house from a distance and even then I could tell it was enormous. What could he be so unhappy about?

Kyoya and I make some more small talk, and I'm about to leave when a voice behind me says, "Hey, Em? Could I talk to you for just a second?" I look over my shoulder and see Kaoru standing there, his hands in his pockets. Kyoya looks at him with a raised eyebrow. I almost smirk when I see him scowl at Kaoru.

"Sure." We step out into the hallway and shut the door. Kaoru shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot before he begins speaking.

"Em…before the winter ball, when I was helping you with your dress…I noticed all these cuts on your arm. I was just…wondering where they came from."

Deep breath in, and out. _Conceal it, _I tell myself. _Don't let him know how much of a screw-up you are. _

"Oh, those?" I say lightly, my heart hammering through my chest. "I have a cat at my house and she's…pretty aggressive." I can't believe I'm saying this: an aggressive cat? What a pathetic excuse. There's no way he's going to buy that. "But we'll be getting rid of her soon," I add quickly. "since she's such a bother."

Kaoru laughs. "Well, that's good. I thought they came from a pet, but I wasn't sure…" his voice trails off. "Anyway, I just wanted to know if you were okay." He leans over and gives my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

I nod and smile slightly. I'm a mirror: just show them the outside and act like everything is okay, and it will be. Only I know the difference between myself and my reflection. This thought drives me to near madness, and when I get home I give myself a new scar, right where Kaoru laid his hand.

**Author's Note: Kaoru is so freaking sweet, I just love him! 3 and I love Evanescence, I think I've used three of their songs now as an intro XD Hope you enjoyed it, and I apologize once more for not updating sooner. You guys are the best! Please review!**


	13. Chapter 11: The Plan

**Author's Note: Hello there, my fellow readers! This next chapter is more of a filler chapter than an eventful one – but don't worry, the next one will be eventful, I promise! And I thought I did darn good on this one, so please review!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Ouran. :P**

"_Breathe me in, I'm yours to keep. And hold onto your words, cause talk is cheap – and remember me tonight when you're asleep. Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again…" –Fall For You, Secondhand Serenade_

_**Kyoya**_

Gardenias. That's what she smells like. Gardenias, with a hint of something fruity…pears? Peaches? Whatever it is, it's intoxicating. I passed by her earlier to grab my notebook and she tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear, and I caught a whiff of it. That scent stopped me dead in my tracks. Then I remembered I had customers, so I pulled myself out of my reverie and went back to business.

And yet, even after that, I am haunted; and not just by her perfume. It's two o'clock in the morning and I can't sleep. My mind is a-flight, and yet my limbs seem made of lead. I close my eyes to see if they're still there. Sure enough, baby blue eyes appear behind my eyelids; her eyes – wide blue eyes with long lashes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but if that's true then her eyes have a high-grade security system with bars and locks more complicated than my home security system.

I press the palms of my hands to my eyes, groaning. Why does she constantly invade my thoughts, and in the most random times and places? I'm walking down a hallway, thinking about the Host Club when she just...comes into my head like a wrecking ball. **(A/N: **_**ugh**_**, I can't even write "wrecking ball" without thinking of that stupid song…Great, now I have an image of Emi on a wrecking ball. **_**Yuck**_**.) **It's so sudden that it makes me catch my breath and she doesn't leave for…I calculate in my head: exactly three and a half hours.

And the strange thing is, I like it.

The simple truth is that I'm captivated by her. I want to know more about her. I want to know why she has such sadness in her eyes; what in the world could a beautiful girl like her be sad about? She has such a down-to-earth personality that I've never seen in any of the other girls at Ouran. But then again, most of the girls at school are shallow, and I know Emiko is not shallow. She has a simple elegance, especially in her music. It's hard for me to believe that she wrote all those pieces herself. If Emiko told me she hadn't written them I would assume they'd be an unheard Mozart concerto.

The sound of the main garage door opening interrupts my thoughts. I sigh inwardly. My father is home late – again. Not that this surprises me at all. The door to the garage closes and I hear a long, frustrated sigh. He climbs up the stairs to the master bedroom, and I feel myself tense as he walks past my own door.

I want to open that door more than anything, to talk to him and have an actual conversation. An eloquent conversation, one that ends with a "goodnight, Father. Sleep well!" instead of screaming and tense jaws. I thought families were supposed to stick together, supposed to do things together. I barely talk to my family, and that's not exactly a choice. Well, part of it is and part of it isn't.

My eyelids grow heavy; she finally left my mind in peace for the time being. Before I fall asleep I grab my notebook out of my bag that's at the foot of my bed. I open to a crisp, blank page and take out my pen. I write down my new plan quickly before I fall asleep.

_To Be Done: find out more about Miss Emiko Shizune. Could be great benefit. _

As I lie back down in bed, a smile curves my lips. She _could_ be a great benefit…for me.


	14. Chapter 12: Crushing Hard

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Ouran.**

"_I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie. All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh; I've never had the least notion that I could fall for so much emotion." –I've Got a Crush On You, Linda Ronstadt _

Today was a weird day. It started off like this:

"Shall I repeat the question, Miss Shizune?"

My head snaps up as I hear my name. My calculus teacher stands at the chalkboard, arms crossed and feet tapping impatiently. My pen strays from my hand, scribbling gibberish all over my new sheet music. "Um –"

The teacher points to me. "Perhaps this teaches you that you should pay attention in class, instead of doing other tedious things."

I clench the pen hard. He dares to call my music tedious? He dares to call the thing that matters most, the element closest to my heart like it's a piece of garbage? "Pardon me, but I happen to be doing something a bit more important than calculus, thank you very much." Everyone is staring at me. I even hear someone snicker. I can see Tamaki out of the corner of my eye, his mouth open and gaping like a fish.

My teacher's face reddens. "Perhaps, Miss Shizune, you will realize how important Calculus is when you finish your assignment tonight in detention."

Damn. I can hear Tamaki babbling to him about how I'm the official piano player or whatever and that they need me for the club, but my teacher stands firm. It's not exactly Tamaki's defense that makes tears spring to my eyes; it's the fact that whenever I try to speak someone else manages to shut my mouth. Why won't anyone listen to me?

I show how much I care about Calculus to my dear teacher by finishing my symphony during detention. Ha.

Things only get stranger. When I get home that evening my mother explodes at me. "Emiko Shizune, where the _hell _have you been?!"

Two things: number one, my mother never swears; not even when she burns her finger on the stove. And number two, why was she so concerned about me all of the sudden? As I look into her angry eyes – the very eyes I inherited – I realize I can't lie to her. My father, I can lie to all I want. But my mother is a different story.

I stare at my shoes. "Detention," I mumble.

"Detention?" my mother's voice is full of shock. "Why on earth did you get detention?" I numbly pull out the piece of paper that my calculus teacher wrote to give to my parent/guardian. I don't know what it says; I've been too scared to look.

My mother's eyes narrow as her eyes glance the strip of paper. She looks at me and I'm surprised to see hurt in her eyes. I was expecting disappointment. "You mouthed off to a teacher? Emi, I'm surprised at you."

The name she calls me makes my blood boil. It was my sister's special name for me. "He called my music trash, mom." I say with clenched teeth.

My mother's eyes soften a bit at that remark. "I can understand that, but it's no excuse to talk back to a teacher, dear."

I roll my eyes. "I already talked to the principal about this, mom. It won't happen again."

"I know, sweetheart, but – "

"Let it go, mom! It's no big deal!" I shout. The minute I say those words I wish I could take them back when I see the pain in my mother's eyes. I stomp up to my room, berating myself the whole way.

The weirdness doesn't stop there. My mother calls up to me later that night, "Phone is for you, Emiko!"

I drop the razor and grab the phone with my bleeding hand. "Hello?" I wipe the tears off of my face with my free hand.

"Hello, Miss Shizune, this is Kyoya."

_**Kyoya?! **_

"Uh….hi." I smack myself in the forehead at the stupid remark. Genius, Emiko – pure genius. "What's up?" I manage to squeak into the phone.

He stays as calm and collected as ever. "Since you weren't at the club today, I thought I should tell you that tomorrow the entire club is going over to Tamaki's house to swim in his indoor pool."

Swimming? Oh snap. My scars! "Sounds fun, but I can't go."

"Can't go? Why not?"

"I, uh…have plans." I say lamely.

He chuckles. "They sound like…_exciting _plans. I think we both know they are nonexistent." I sigh, not knowing what to say. "Please come. I'm sure Haruhi would hate to be the only girl there."

Damn. I dare say he's as stubborn as I am. "Fine," I say, running a hand through my hair.

"Excellent. I'll come pick you up tomorrow at 11 AM. Have a good night." And with that, he hangs up. I bury my face in my hands, not caring that blood is covering my face. Kyoya, _the Kyoya Ootori, _is coming over to _my _house to pick _me _up tomorrow? Geez, what will I wear? I shake my head at myself; this is so unlike me. But I guess that all people aren't like themselves when they've got a crush on someone out of their reach.


End file.
